Dearest Darling Wife...Just a Few Lines to Let You Know I Am Okay

By Louise Weible

Louise Weible is married to her husband, Larry. They have three children, Larry Jr., Timothy Wade, and Laura Louise. While a stay-at-home mother, when the children were young, she took a writing course with only a glimmer of where it might lead to.

Later as a real estate agent, she found good fun in writing her own advertisements for the newspaper ads. Upon joining the Writers Group, a dormant dream began to emerge. With the groups encouragement she began to write a column for a local newspaper.

And finally, at long last, she began a long dreamed of project that told of her mother and fathers meeting, courtship and marriage during W.W.II; most of which is portrayed through these letters from 1941 until 1945. It is written from Dads letters that he sent home and which Mom stored away with great care. It is a story of ordinary people with human frailties and strengths and some humor; longing and striving for what they believe will be an extraordinary life together when the war is over.

She hopes you enjoy the reading of these letters as much as she did when she recorded them for her widowed mothers re-enjoyment but whose eyesight was failing. Her mother gave Louise the letters, knowing how much she had always treasured them and would keep them safe and intact. She transcribed these letters in this book with her mothers permission and blessing; as long as it was done honorably. She never once, upon reading these letters, read one that was not honorable. They depict the man, as he wasa loving, kind and gentle man who made promises. He kept those promises. He was our hero. He still is.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Xlibris US
• Release date: Jul 16, 2004
• ISBN: 9781469112077

Louise Weible

About the Author: Louise Weible is married to her husband, Larry. They have three children, Larry Jr., Timothy Wade, and Laura Louise. While a stay-at-home mother, when the children were young, she took a writing course with only a glimmer of where it might lead to. Later as a real estate agent, she found good fun in writing her own advertisements for the newspaper ads. Upon joining the Writers Group, a dormant dream began to emerge. With the groups encouragement she began to write a column for a local newspaper. And finally, at long last, she began a long dreamed of project that told of her mother and fathers meeting, courtship and marriage during W.W.II; most of which is portrayed through these letters from 1941 until 1945. It is written from Dads letters that he sent home and which Mom stored away with great care. It is a story of ordinary people with human frailties and strengths and some humor; longing and striving for what they believe will be an extraordinary life together when the war is over. She hopes you enjoy the reading of these letters as much as she did when she recorded them for her widowed mothers re-enjoyment but whose eyesight was failing. Her mother gave Louise the letters, knowing how much she had always treasured them and would keep them safe and intact. She transcribed these letters in this book with her mothers permission and blessing; as long as it was done honorably. She never once, upon reading these letters, read one that was not honorable. They depict the man, as he wasa loving, kind and gentle man who made promises. He kept those promises. He was our hero. He still is.

Book preview

Dearest Darling Wife … Just a Few Lines To Let

You Know I Am Okay

A Soldier’s Letters To Home

Louise Weible

Copyright © 2004 by Louise Weible.

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the copyright owner.

This book was printed in the United States of America.

To order additional copies of this book, contact:

Xlibris Corporation

1-888-795-4274

www.Xlibris.com

[e-mail]

24439

Contents

Introduction

Book One

Prologue

BOOK TWO

Book Three

Epilogue

Dedication

I dedicate this book to my mother and father who lived their lives in such a way that it impels me to attempt to relate their story of how their lives began with each other.

Most of all I dedicate this book to Dad, not only to honor him but also to thank him. He met and fell in love with a young divorced woman with three small children. And in doing so, he made promises. He kept those promises. He was our hero. He still is.

Introduction

I have always been fascinated by the stories that Mom, mostly, told over the years, of the romantic way that she and Dad met, courted, and married. I was also captivated by her stories, after she had traveled to magical California so they could be together until the time came for Dad to be shipped overseas. No one knew when or even if this would happen because of the loose lips, sinks ships, admonition.

But when the signs and rumors indicated that it was imminent that Dad would be going overseas soon, he arranged for Mom and we children to move to Ohio from Tennessee. In his heart, that is where he wanted to return to; although he let Mom make that decision. From his letters, he can be seen gently persuading her, even though he always reiterated that it was entirely up to her . . . or what was her view? And they both could decide what was best. etc.

I also believe from reading these letters that he wanted to remove Mom from close proximity to her ex-spouse.

These letters will speak of how their love developed, from the time they met, until Dad’s return from the war. They experienced reluctance from both sides of the families. Mom’s father was very nervous about what he almost considered her marrying a foreigner, from up north. In this agitated state, when Mom spanked Jr., her older child, about a lie she thought he had told, Grandpa turned Mom over his knee and spanked her.

She was shocked and swore it was the first and only time he had ever raised his hand to her. Dad was there at the time and startled to say the least. Throughout his letters, he teases her about getting a spanking in reference to that incident.

Dad’s mother resisted the idea that her favorite son had suddenly married a divorced woman who already had three children, and from the south, no less. I think she believed Mom had caught him with her womanly wiles at a vulnerable time. Reading the letters will disprove that… to a point, anyway. Dad’s sister said Grandma was like a thunderbolt when she got the news. And although she did not think much of the south in general, she once harshly corrected a woman who commented that we kids would be alright after we had learned to speak English. Grandma retorted hotly that we spoke better English than her German accented English.

As the letters unfold, they will tell you what happened; except for the year she was in California with him. Any letters he may have sent to us then, have been lost. I have tried to cover some of that year in this introduction. Otherwise, the letters he wrote, spoke of longings, insecurities, intense homesickness, jealousies, humor, their future, etc; and yes, some manipulation; all for the best, of course. It also speaks of what we recognize today as historical events.

Dad was close enough to the combat zone that he was blown out a window when a bomb landed nearby.

Dad saw the concentration camps and starving Germans, including children. I can attest to the fact that these traumas affected him the rest of his life. He told of one Christmas when the whole camp waited for their dinner until all the people and children, hanging around the garbage bins outside the kitchen scrounging for food scraps, had been brought in for the first table sitting and fed. They happened to be German. He could never abide waste after that.

He did not speak of the oven at the concentration camp to me until he was on his deathbed. He rambled on about the pretty painted French carts and the oven that went on and on through the brick wall. I thought he was hallucinating about his army cooking days until I saw a documentary about the concentration camps and saw an oven that went on and on through a brick wall. My sister told me later that he had spoken of them to her one night when she had returned home from a date and found him crying. I know he suffered periodic nervous episodes that today we recognize as post-traumatic syndrome. Just before he was to return to the United States at the end of the war, he was convinced to sign on for another thirty days and be paid more money to do so. I have either read or saw in a documentary of sorts that General Eisenhower had wanted soldiers to see the concentration camps so that there would be witnesses to that monstrous deed. He did not want history to be reinvented or rewritten on that particular point. Perhaps that was the reason for Dad’s thirty-day extension of duty. He spoke so little of the war that it did not even seem to exist for him. I believe that like most soldiers, he just wanted to come home and live an ordinary life and forget.

These letters will tell of a naïve young woman leaving her home state of Tennessee for the first time and traveling on a train across the nation to be with her new husband at Dillon Beach, near Petaluma, California. Upon reaching a certain destination where she would have to transfer to a bus to continue her journey, she found that the bus would not arrive until the next morning. Afraid to venture out on her own in a strange and overwhelming city, she settled down to spend the night in the station, sitting or sleeping on the hard benches, if need be.

A Special Military Patrol came by, told her that the station closed at two o’clock a.m. and she would have to move on at that time. She didn’t know what to do or where to go, so he offered to let her walk patrol with him until they could figure out what to do until the station opened up again. After an hour or so, Mom asked if there would be an all night theater in the area. He didn’t know but they walked and looked until they found one. Mom went in there to spend the night. She said the S.M.P. came in several times to check on her and came back for a final time to escort her back to the station when it finally opened. She never forgot his kindness.

She also told of another incident where she and a girl friend spotted something dark and long floating on the ocean. Since fear of enemy submarines sailing too close to our shores prevailed, people were asked to be on alert at all times for anything that looked suspicious and report it to the authorities. It was discovered that it was only a log riding the waves. While they were somewhat embarrassed at this revelation, they were commended for their diligence.

Since there was a shortage of everything during the war, including housing, Mom and Dad shared a small apartment with another couple, Burt and Evie. Mom worked at a local doughnut shop to augment Dad’s army pay. One weekend, Dad decided to go visit his brother, Jim, who was in the Navy and recently stationed nearby. On that same weekend, Jim, knowing Dad was stationed nearby decided to visit him and his new wife, whom he had never met. And Mom had decided to visit some other friends in order to give the other couple some time to themselves.

Imagine Jim’s surprise when he came to the house he had been directed to, only to find a couple on the porch and a woman sitting on the man’s lap, kissing him. The man was not his brother and he wrongly assumed the woman was his new sister-in-law. Evie laughed when she told Mom how Jim’s face turned beet red with confusion, anger and embarrassment. He soon recovered after hearing the facts.

But, the worm turned when Mom took him to the local P.X. for groceries. She said all the men there looked at this navy man with a ‘what have we here?" look in their eyes. Mom hurriedly introduced Jim to them and explained the situation. The military must look after their own.

These letters will speak of Aunt Florence, an African-American and a very dear friend and confidant of Mom’s.

Jesse James is a very common man’s name in the south due to the hero worship of Jesse James, the outlaw. Mom had a brother, a son and her ex-spouse so named. I have tried to clarify this as I go, without losing the spirit of the letters.

I had always planned, with Mom’s permission, to write a book about their early war experiences she had spoken of so often. She gave the letters to me to be used as I saw fit as long as I used them in an honorable way. Believe me that was no effort on my part. After reading the letters, I realized they told the story much better and more eloquently than I ever could, as their story threads its way throughout the letters. Upon transcribing the letters verbatim, I read nothing that could be considered not honorable in my estimation.

This work is another side of the W.W.II. It does not have the fighting heroes, we are accustomed to reading about or watch on the big screen. For the most part, Dad was a cook in the army and at first, not a particularly dedicated one He lost his stripes more than once. Mom has been known to have said that Velcro would have been a handy thing to have back then.

But he began to realize that an army truly does ‘travel on it’s stomach’ and that he was a foot soldier as much as anyone. His company was somewhat like the television show, Mash.

This is their own story of how two ordinary people meet, fall in love and strive towards fulfilling their dream of what they presume would be an extraordinary life together.

I have kept the words, grammar and all as Dad wrote them in order to keep the essence of the man true. I have also included some negative aspect of the politics and sentiments of the day. They are not meant to offend. The reader must remember that Dad was limited in what events he could write about. I was sorry to transcribe the last letter. I wanted to see how it ended, after all was said and done.

End of Introduction

Book One

The Courting

Prologue

The greyhound bus lumbered into the station in Nashville, Tennessee. A young woman holding the hand of a tow headed five-year-old boy, climbed the steep steps and reached back to pick the boy up. He exclaimed, I don’t need no help, Mother! The bus was nearly full and they had to take a seat in the back.

A soldier, on furlough and headed for Ohio to see his folks, stepped up into another bus; only to be informed by the driver that it was full and no seats were left. He suggested that he either get on the bus parked behind him or wait for another one that would be along in about an hour. As he climbed the steps of the next bus, it looked as if that one might be full, also. But the driver informed him there was a seat or two left in the rear. He wavered a moment, wondering whether to get on this bus or wait for one less crowded, where he could perhaps get a better seat for the long ride home. He decided to stay on this bus and thus unknowingly sealed his fate.

He worked his way to the back of the bus, attempting to avoid the feet of people already seated. He tripped over somebody’s bag in the isle, lost his balance and accidentally stepped on the tow headed boy’s foot, who let out a huge squall. (Southernese for cry.) The soldier became flustered and embarrassed at hurting him and apologized profusely to the boy and his mother. He sat down beside them and engaged the child in an apologetic conversation; during which the boy declared to the soldier that his mother was divorced and not married anymore.

Being a soldier, always on the prowl and since it was a long ride to Ohio, company would be nice and female company at that. The woman and he began to exchange friendly information. Interest between them grew in leaps and bounds.

The bus neared Orlinda, Tennessee, where Mom’s folks lived. She told him that this was where she must get off. Dad was smittened and wanted to know more about this woman and asked her if she thought her folks would mind if he got off with her and spend a day or two with them. There were no hotels in this small town and even if there had been, he had no money for one.

Well the South is known for its hospitality, especially in wartime. She answered that as long as he behaved himself, she didn’t think they would mind

Thus, her fate was sealed.

End of Prologue

1941

Dear Cora Mae,

Well, I am in Chicago, waiting for my train. I am okay and hope this finds you the same, too. I can say I have just spent the most wonderful furlough with you. I never will forget it. I will be glad when this war is over. It will mean a lot to us.

So for now, I will close.

Dear as always, I love you,

Charles

November, 1941

Dear Cora Mae,

I got your letter and was glad to hear from you. I was late getting it as I was on maneuvers in South Carolina. Honey, I will never be able to forget you. I meant every word I said to you. If I don’t mean it, I don’t say it. I don’t like liars. If I can’t say something without lying, I don’t say anything.

I am looking forward to coming to Nashville when I get back, to spend a weekend with you. We have been so busy that I did not have time to write. I sure enjoyed the time I spent with you. I would give a year of my life just to be with you again. I ought to be back in Tennessee at my camp in December I think. If this letter doesn’t happen to reach you, I will write again once I am back in camp.

I guess that is all for now. I ain’t got no mind for better letter writing.

Love & Best Wishes,

Charles Ward

1941

Dearest Cora Mae,

Well Honey, I haven’t written you for some time because I have been pretty busy. You know how it is. Things are about the same here. No news, no excitement, no nothing. I hope this finds you all okay.

I still work in the kitchen and probably will for some time, yet. You will have to forgive me for not writing sooner, but I was too busy. When you are cooking for a hundred and fifty men, it ain’t no joke.

Say hello to your folks for me and I hope you are not so blue when you get this, as you say you usually are. You know, Honey, in the army you cannot do, as you would like to. I’ve only been away from camp for about three times since I have been here. So you see, it ain’t much fun being here.

Well, Honey, there ain’t much to write about so I will close. I love you… do you believe me? There isn’t anything in this troubled world I want more than you. Do you believe me?

Love & Best Wishes,

C.W.Ward SWAK

1941

To My Dearest Cora Mae,

Well, I wrote you a letter the other day, but I didn’t have any stamps and then I naturally forgot to mail it. So I will write some more and mail them both together. I usually don’t have that much to say anyway, as nothing much happens around here anyway.

I got your card but didn’t get the letter you said you wrote. Honey, I am sure down hearted tonight. I sure could use some cheering up. There is nothing to do but sit around and wait I guess. I wish everyday that every Jap and German would drop dead.

Honey, why don’t you write me more often? That sure would cheer me up. I know I ain’t much at writing, but I don’t have much time. But you could overlook that and write anyhow. I baked a cake today. It ain’t so bad but it could be better. Practice makes perfect. I’ll get better, sometime. Can you bake?

Well, Honey, I will close and hope to hear from you soon. I love you true.

Yours, until the kittens have cats, the cows have chickens and the chickens have kids.

I Love You, Charles

1941

My Dearest Cora Mae,

Well, Honey, I got time so I will try to make amends for being so slack in writing, henceforth. Everyday, I look for a letter from you. Everything is OK here and I hope it is there, too.

You know, we have just completed our desert maneuvers and it was the toughest six weeks I ever had the misfortune to go through. Lots of times, we had no water and a few times, very little to eat. I guess they had it planned that way, just to see if we could do it.

Nobody died of it, so I guess it was a good thing just to give us an idea of what it could be like.

I don’t know about my furlough, yet. I still keep hoping strong. I hope you are as anxious to see me, as I am to see you. You know now that I am out of the kitchen, I have more time to write. I hope you can read it.

Honey, are you at home now or still in Nashville, if it is any of my business? My folks are just a little slack in writing, so I don’t know how they are right now. My father is getting up in years, but he still works the farm all the time. How are your folks? Getting along as well, I hope.

Let me know what you have been doing the last month or so. I can’t think of too much to say, just now. I am on guard tonight, so I will have to close for now. Have all to keep hoping for me. I promise with all my might to see you soon. Please believe me.

Yours Only,

C.W.Ward   Love&Kisses

1941

Dear Cora,

I got your letter when we got back from camp. We came in last night and tonight I am answering your letter. It is too bad about your brother. I hope he is okay and not hurt much. What spooked the horse?

Excuse my downhill slant. Honey, you know I would write more often, but when you are out on maneuvers, it is hard to keep track of your clothes, let alone carry along stationery.

Honey, I hope you didn’t mean it when you said you were about ready to give me up. I would not have said what I did if I had not meant it. You said I would take time off to write you if I cared about you. When I get to Nashville, you will get a spanking for thinking that and I mean it.

I will tell you everything when I get there, this week or next, I don’t know. I can’t say as that is for my sergeant to say. It will be one or the other. But if something happens, I will let you know. I would send a picture of myself, only I don’t have any. I lost all my pictures on maneuvers, even the one of you. And I also lost that address of yours, so it was a good thing I got your letter when I did.

Well, Honey, I will close for now. I don’t know whether I will get off Christmas or not. If I do, you know what our plans are. Or have you given up all hope?

I will see you soon. Write to me.

Yours Only,

C.W.Ward

Roses love sunshine

Violets love dew

Angels in heaven

Know I love Yoooou!!

Excuse my scribbling. I’ll write more next time.

1941

Dearest Cora Mae,

Well, Honey, I spent a nice weekend in Nashville. It would have been much more pleasant if I could have found you. I suppose you know by now, the U.S. is at war. If it goes on, you know I won’t get out. But I don’t worry, because I don’t care how it goes but I’d rather be out. I just ain’t that lucky.

You know, when I called out there at the house, I told the lady I was your boyfriend. She asked me, which one? What do you think of that? Haha! Don’t get me wrong, cause I don’t blame you. But it just sounded a little funny, that’s all. She said you were at the Grand Ole’ Opry.

I don’t know when I will be able to get back to Nashville. Do you want me to come? I got ten days furlough sometime soon. Do you want me to figure on spending it with you? You know I meant every word I said to you. I hope you don’t think of me as just someone to pass the time with. Honey, I was serious with you and I hope you were, too. You were probably angry that I didn’t write sooner than I did.

Well, Honey, I only wrote home every once in awhile while I was on maneuvers and you. I am not very good at letter writing. I am just too lazy, I guess. Answer and let me know how you are and if you still want to get married. You know if we do, you will still probably doubt me.

But wait until I get my furlough… that is if you are still willing. You know when you are in the army, you can only do things when you get a chance. Things look pretty bad for us guys in the army, now. But I always got hope.

Tell your folks when you write to them, I said hello. I got some pictures taken the other day. I will send you some and my folks too.

Honey, please answer this letter soon as it ain’t no telling what will happen next. Let me know how you feel, because it is constantly on my mind.

Yours Forever,

C.W.Ward    SWAK

1941

Dearest Cora Mae,

I received your letter today. Sure was glad to get it. You know I am sorry I didn’t get to see you at the bus depot. I overslept and didn’t get there when I said I would. I got there at nine o’clock. I didn’t get to bed very early as I did some running around in Nashville before going to bed.

The war situation is bad now, so I can’t say for sure about my leave. Or even a weekend off. But we will probably get a ten day furlough soon. Half the boys will get it early and the rest of us will get it when they get back. That is if something don’t happen and we get called anyway. So I will come up to see you the very first chance I get.

I hope you enjoyed the Grand Ole’ Opry. I would have liked to have gone with you, but no such luck, I guess.

Everything here is as perusual. How are your brothers getting along? If you can’t read this, maybe you can do some guessing.

Well I’ve got to close, take a shower and go to bed. So be good and answer soon.

Yours,   Charles

P.S. Did you get my letter?

1941

Dearest Cora Mae,

Well, Honey, it has been awhile since I have heard from you or wrote to you. I wrote to you last week. I hope you got my letter. I don’t want you to get angry because I don’t write very often, but I just don’t always get time. You probably think I am lying to you, but Honey, I don’t lie to you. Why should I? I don’t want you to stop writing because I don’t write often enough.

What are you doing these days? We had a parade today. Boy, I hate those. They are taking our horses away and mechanizing us. I don’t like the idea, but what can I do?

How are things doing in Tennessee anyway? How are the crops? I wonder often of how you are doing. I sure miss getting your letters because I look forward to getting them. You said you would always love me no matter what. Do you still mean that? I hope you do.

I can’t think of much to say, except I would like to be there with you. So I will say so long for now and ask you to write to me soon.

Love, Charles    SWAK

P.S. Honey, please believe me. You are the one who can make me unhappy if you didn’t love me. I hope this damn war ends soon.

Honey, please believe me when I say I love you, because I really mean it and I want you to believe that, too. Well, so long again. Write very soon.

1941

Dearest Cora Mae,

Well, I wasn’t going to write you today, but I got your letter with the picture in it, so I thought I would write and thank you. You said it wasn’t a very good picture, but you know you are mistaken. In my mind, I think you are, anyway. It is a very good picture. I sent a couple of pictures of me earlier. You should get them soon, if not already.

I am trusting in you a lot so don’t let me down. I have always told you the truth except when I am joking with you and I want you to do the same. Don’t get mad if I say something when I am teasing you or joking with you. Let me know if you do so I can correct it, Okay? And you do the same, will you? I don’t believe